


Never Seen You With Your Clothes On

by lilyvandersteen



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9469223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyvandersteen/pseuds/lilyvandersteen
Summary: Santana models for a live drawing class, and one night, she nods off after a gruelling day of work. Rather than mortified, she's happy about this development, since it gets her an introduction to the beautiful blonde she's been admiring from afar.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_simple_rainbow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_simple_rainbow/gifts).



> This is an AU in which Brittana didn’t meet until they were both in college :-)
> 
> The story below is based on a Tumblr post (http://lilyvandersteen.tumblr.com/post/156352278479/whitebear-ofthe-watertribe-angryfishtrap) and dedicated to @a-simple-rainbow because apparently, it’s her birthday!

Never Seen You With Your Clothes On

After delivering two plates of burgers and fries, a milkshake and a coke to Table 8, Santana checked her watch and yelped.

“Gunther, I need to get going!” she yelled, and stormed off to the back room for her coat and purse.

Minutes later, she was waiting on the subway platform for her train to arrive, her foot tapping.

Why was the train delayed just now that she was already late? _Madre de Dios!_

When the train finally arrived, Santana plopped down on the first free seat she saw. An old woman carrying a tiny dolled-up dog tutted at her, but Santana just shot her a glare.

_Who’s been running around waiting tables for hours and hours? Not you!_

Santana’s back was hurting, her feet were killing her and her head felt ready to burst. Not to mention her throat was sore from belting out songs for the customers. Thank heavens her second job was more relaxing.

She’d stumbled onto it by chance, really. Mandy, a girl from her marketing class, was telling her friend that she’d been asking the assistant director of her dorm what kind of student jobs she could do, and summed up what the options were. Most of them were boring. Filing and manning the desk in the lobby and the like. But then… “And apparently, there’s a life drawing class in Block D from 8 to 10 PM, and they need models for that. But that’s… like… nude, so… No way!”

Santana had rolled her eyes, and when the class was over, she’d asked Mandy what dorm she lived in, and then headed straight to Weinstein Hall to ask the assistant director how she could sign up as a model for the drawing lessons.

Five weeks later, and the modelling had become Santana’s favourite job ever. The rest of her life was beyond hectic. She was taking a full load at NYU, and on top of that, she waited tables and worked as a dog walker. Her mind and her body never got enough rest. Only when she sat on her red padded stool in the art room, she could unwind, as long as she kept up the requested pose.

Santana’s stop was announced over the speaker, and she hurried towards the doors, eager to be the first to slip through. When the doors opened, another girl proved faster, though, walking onto the platform with a skip in her step, humming under her breath, her long blonde hair swishing left to right.

Santana raked her eyes over the girl’s figure appreciatively, and then remembered she had places to be and scurried away.

She arrived at the art room five minutes late, and whispered a short apology to the instructor while hurriedly taking her boots and her coat off.

While stripping, she noticed that the three faulty space heaters that usually stood around her, but had only crackled and sputtered the weeks before, without giving off any heat, had finally been replaced by new ones.

As soon as she sat down on the stool, she felt the difference. This time, her ass and her boobs wouldn’t freeze off. It was toasty warm all around her, the warmest she’d felt in over a month, since her dorm room was draughty and cold.

She put one arm under her boobs and stretched her right leg out, as instructed, and then closed her eyes happily. Nothing to do in the next fifteen minutes but relax and soak up all that glorious heat.

The murmurs of the art students and the instructors quickly lulled her into a dreamlike state. She drifted in and out of consciousness, moving on autopilot when the instructor would tell her to change into a different position.

And then, all of a sudden, there was a loud babble of voices echoing through her head. Santana blinked her eyes open and saw concerned faces looking down at her - the instructor and half of the students, one of them the blonde beauty from the subway.

_What’s happened? Oh… I’m… I’m lying down. I fell asleep, didn’t I? I fell asleep. Ugh._

“Are you all right?” the instructor asked, hands fluttering helplessly, clearly wanting to reach out to help Santana up but not daring because she was naked. “Can we… Is there a dressing gown or coat she could… Ah, thank you!”

The beautiful blonde had torn the sheet down from the backdrop and now draped it over Santana, before offering her a hand to help her stand up.

“Thanks,” Santana croaked.

The blonde smiled at her sunnily. “You’re welcome! Did you faint because you were hungry? ‘Cause I have a KitKat in my bag. Wait, I’ll go fetch it for you.”

Moments later, Santana sat on the stool again, munching on a KitKat and then on an apple she got from another student, while the artists were diligently drawing her again.

Instead of the near-silence she was used to, though, the students were taking turns talking to her, so that she wouldn’t fall asleep again. It was nice, Santana decided. She hadn’t known any of them before - had hardly even noticed them in the room, closing her eyes as soon as she’d struck the required pose. Now, they were all introducing themselves, and telling her why exactly they were taking this life drawing class.

Santana nodded and smiled more than she had in years, especially when it was the beautiful blonde’s turn, whose name proved to be Brittany. She was taking the art class because her cat, Lord Tubbington, had asked her to, apparently. He wanted a portrait of himself, and needed Brittany to practice until she could draw him well enough to make a lifelike portrait.

Santana, though bemused, hummed in understanding, her smile stretching from ear to ear when Brittany beamed at her.

She went home quite smitten, and very much looking forward to next week’s lesson.

The next day, though, she was walking to the cafeteria after her statistics class when Brittany skipped past her, humming again, and then stopped and did a double-take. “Santana! It IS you! Sorry, I didn’t recognise you at first, I’ve never seen you with your clothes on!”

Santana heard a few passers-by snicker, but paid them no attention. “Brittany, hey! Are you going to the cafeteria too? Come, I’ll buy you lunch. I owe you for that KitKat!”

 


	2. In Touch With Nature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a few requests to write more in this verse, so here's another tiny one-shot for you. Enjoy!

# In Touch With Nature

“Okay, and one last thing… As usual, there will be an NYU group exhibition for all art students at the Rosenberg Gallery. The call for proposals was posted online just this morning, and this year’s theme will be ‘In Touch With Nature’. So send in your best nature photographs by the 5th of April at the latest.”

Brittany handed Professor White her assignment. The man looked at her over his horn-rimmed glasses, and recognition sparked in his eyes.

“Oh, Miss… Pierce, a word of advice, if I may?”

Brittany cocked her head to the side.

“I know you’re obsessed with that cat of yours, and you’ve certainly taken lovely pictures of… Prince Chubby Bum, was it? But cute cat pictures won’t cut it for the exhibition. You need to broaden your horizon. Go to Central Park, find a tree casting interesting shadows or a picturesque view or a family on a picnic. All right?”

Brittany bit her lower lip and nodded. “Okay. Thanks, Professor!”

As she stepped out of the building, she checked her watch and hesitated. It was barely ten thirty. She’d promised Lord Tubbington she’d be back to feed him at noon. Would she have time to go to Central Park now?

She decided to risk it, and an hour later, she’d already taken over two dozen shots of ducks in a pond, robins fighting over a half-eaten sandwich and a curly-headed man talking to a hollow tree, stomping his feet to keep warm.

Brittany was checking the photographs she’d made when she suddenly heard excited yapping. She looked around to locate the sound and grinned at what she saw: five white terriers chasing a tennis ball. She zoomed in and started taking pictures again. It wasn’t until the fiercest of the five had retrieved the ball and was being petted as a reward that Brittany noticed the girl the dogs belonged to. It was Santana!

Santana was on her knees, hugging the dogs and laughing as she got licked all over her face. Brittany put the camera on a faster shutter speed and let it click away furiously.

Santana threw the ball another few times, and then put the dogs’ leashes back on.

Brittany checked her watch again, and squeaked when she saw it was past noon already. She carefully tucked her camera into its bag again and walked towards the nearest subway stop with long strides.

“Brittany? Brittany, is that you?”

Brittany looked over her shoulder and saw Santana and the dogs running towards her.

“Hey, Santana!”

“Hey! Have you had lunch yet? I was just about to drop these off at their apartment and grab a bite to eat.”

Brittany blinked. “They have an apartment to themselves?”

Santana smiled softly. “No, it belongs to their owners. I’m just the dog walker taking them to the park to do their business.”

Oh. Right. That made more sense.

Santana’s smile took on a more hopeful quality. “Want to come along and have lunch with me after?”

Brittany wrung her hands. “I really shouldn’t. I promised Lord Tubbington I’d be back at noon and it’s already twenty past.”

Disappointment flashed over Santana’s face, and then her eyes hardened and she gave a quick nod. “I understand. See you at the life drawing class, then.”

She turned her back on Brittany and ran off, the dogs yapping again and straining their leashes.

“Santana, wait, please!”

Brittany ran after Santana and caught her by the elbow. “Please, I didn’t mean to brush you off, I swear! I need to go feed Lord Tubbington first, but can we meet up after?”

Santana gave her a long searching look. What she saw seemed to put her at ease. “Okay, then. Campus cafeteria again? Give me your phone number in case we can’t find each other.”

Half an hour later, they were sharing a salad and a sandwich and talking about Santana’s doggy clients. Santana’s eyes shone while she talked about all the dogs she looked after, and Brittany cocked her head to the side and smiled in admiration.

“What?”

“You’re so beautiful,” Brittany said.

“Hey, that’s my line!”

“Well, maybe we could share it?”

“Deal.”

They grinned at one another.

“What were you doing in the park, anyway?” Santana asked.

Brittany explained about the exhibition.

“I see… Well, any time you want to tag along when I take these dogs out, you’re more than welcome!”

So Brittany took to accompanying Santana and the excitable terriers to Central Park on the days that her schedule allowed her to, and she slowly fell in love with this new friend of hers.

Santana was blunt and often rude to other people, and presented a façade of haughty indifference to the world. With Brittany, though, she let her guard down, and she proved to be funny and sweet and very caring. She was playful, too. Though she always looked like a fashion plate, she would race the dogs and roll on the grass and dance in the rain with them, never minding grass stains and paw prints, and laughing merrily.

This wild and carefree Santana mesmerised Brittany, and her portfolio thickened week after week as she kept snapping pictures of Santana with her doggy friends.

Shortly before the application deadline, she spent a whole day behind her laptop scrolling through the vast amount of photographs she’d made in the past few weeks, and she couldn’t stop smiling at the screen, as one photo after the other showed her all the facets of Santana she’d fallen in love with.

_I need to ask her out. For real._

In the end, the picture she sent in for the exhibition was one of Santana under the canopy of a huge tree, joining the terriers in shaking out her wet hair with abandon, her eyes closed and a glowing smile on her face. Brittany had caught Santana mid-action, her arms thrown wide and her hair fanning out in all directions, yet the photograph exuded a serenity that was very striking. The dappled light under the tree added to the allurement, making Santana look like some kind of wood nymph.

The photo made the exhibition, of course, and Brittany took Santana along to the vernissage. When they reached the huge canvas with the picture Brittany had sent in, Santana took in a sharp breath.

“Britt-Britt, this is beautiful!”

Brittany smiled at her.

“Yes, you are. Thank you for being my muse.”

“Any time, hon.”

“Santana?”

“Yes?”

“Can I take you on a date?”

Santana quirked an eyebrow. “I thought this WAS a date. Haven’t we been dating all along?”

“I mean, the kind of date that ends in kisses and maybe more,” Brittany clarified.

Santana threw her head back and laughed. “We can do that. I’ve wanted to kiss you for the longest time, only I didn’t want to rush things. I wanted to go at your pace. Wait until you were ready for that.”

Brittany grinned. “I’m ready.”

Santana gave her a soft, adoring look that was a kiss in itself, came one step closer and wrapped her arms around Brittany’s waist. Then she kissed Brittany, thoroughly, paying no attention to the other people present.

When they had to come up for air, their smiles could have lit up the entire gallery.

“Santana? Want to come home with me and meet Lord Tubbington?”

Santana’s smile grew even wider. “I thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
